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Certes," quoth he, “ I cannot well deny, But dreams are short; for as I thought to lay That you in many things may hope to please : My limbs at ease upon the flow'ry ground,
You force a barbarous northern tongne to ply, And drink, with greedy ear, what he might say. And bend it to your purposes with ease;.
As murm’ring waters sweet, or music's sound ; Though rough as Albion's rocks, and hoarser
My sleep departed; and I, waking, found than her seas.
Myself again by Fortha's pleasant stream. “ Nor are your tales, I wot, so loosely yok'd, Homewards I stepp'l, in meditation drown'd,
As those which Colin Clout' did tell before; Reflecting on the meaning of my dream :
EART OF ANDERE ALE.
MY LORD, The flow’rs I see through all your garden Ir is undoubtedly an uneasy situation to lie blowing,
under great obligations without being able to Are mine; most part, at least : I might demand,
make suitable returns: all that can be done in Might claim them, as a crop of my own
this case is, to acknowledge the debt, which sowing, And leave but few, thin scatter'd o'er the land : is looked upon as a kind of compensation, being
(though it does not entitle to an acquittance) A claim so just, I wot, you could not well with
all that gratitude has in its power. stand.”
This is in a peculiar manner my situation with “ Certes," quoth I, “ that justice were full hard, respect to your lordship. What you have done
Which me alone would sentence to restore ; for me with the most uncommon farour am When many a learned sage, and many a bard, condescension, is what I never shall be able to
Are equally your debtors, or much more. repay; and therefore have used the freedom to
Let Tityrus 3 himself produce his store, recominend the following performance to your Take what is thine, but little will remain : protection, that I might have an opportunity of Little, I wot, and that indebted sore
acknowledging my obligations in the most public To Ascra's bard 4, and Arethusa's swains; And others too beside, who lent him many a strain. It is evident that the world will hardly allow " Nor could the modern bards afford to pay,
my gratitude upon this occasion to be disioterWhose songs exalt the champions of the Cross: ested. Your distinguished rank, the additional Take from each hoard thy sterling gold away,
honours derived from the lustre of your anceso And little will remain but worthless dross.
tors, your own uncoirmon abilities, equally Not bards alone could ill support the loss ;
adapted to the service of your country in peace But sages too, whose theft su picion shuund : and in war, are circumstances sufficient to make E'en that sly Greek", who steals and hides so any author ambitious of your lordship's patronclose,
age. But I must do myself the justice to insist, Were half a bankrupt, if he should refund.
it is upon the account of distinctions less splenWhile these are all forborn, shall I alone be did, though far more interesting (those, I mean, dunn'd."
by which you are distinguished as the friend of
human nature, the guide and patron of unexpeno He smild; and from his wreath, which well rienced youth, and the father of the poor), that
( were clad, | I am zealous of subscribing myself, Such boon, the wreath with which his locks Pluck'd a few leaves to bide my temples bare ;
your lordship's The present I receiv'd with heart full glad.
most humble, and “ Henceforth,” quoth I, “ I nevershall be sad ;
most devoted servant, For now I shall obtain my share of fame :
WILLIAM WILKIE Nor will licentious wit, or envy bad, With bitter taunts, my verses dare to blame : This garland shall protect them, and exalt my name."
THE YOUNG LADY AND THE
Yg deep philosophers who can
Say, is there any poini so nice,
To bid your friend his errours mend,
All this the looking glass achiev'd, Is almost certain to offend :
Its threats were minded and believ'd. Thongh you in softest terms advise,
The maid, who spurn d at all advice, Confess him good; admit bim wise ;
Grew tame and gentle in a trice. In vain you sweeten the discourse,
So when all other means had fail'd, He thinks you call him fool, or worse ;
The silent monitor prevailid. You paint his character, and try
Thus, fable to the human-kind If he will own it, and apply.
Presents an image of the mind; Without a name reprove and warn :
It is a mirror where we spy Here none are hurt, and all may learn.
At large our own deformity, This too must fail, the picture shown,
And learn of course those faults to mend, No man will take it for his own.
Which but to mention would offend.
THE KITE AND THE ROOKS,
You say 'tis vain in verse or prose Must all that shall attempt to teach,
To tell what ev'ry body knows, Admonish, satyrize, or preach?
And stretch invention to express Yes, there is one, an ancient art,
Plain truths which all men will confess: By sages found to reach the heart,
Go on the argument to mend, Ere science with distinctions nice
Prove that to know is to attend, Had fixt what virtue is, and vice,
And that we ever keep in sight Inventing all the various names
What reason tells us once is right : On which the moralist declaims :
Till this is done you must excuse They wou'd by simple tales advise,
The zeal and freedom of my Muse, Which took the hearer by surprise ;
In hinting to the human-kind Alarm'd his conscience, unprepar'd,
What few deny but fewer mind : Ere pride had put it on its guard;
There is a fully which we blame, And made him from himself receive
'Tis strange that it should want a name, The lessons which they meant to give.
For sure no other finds a place That this device will oft prevail,
So often in the human race; And gain its end, when others fail,
I mean the tendency to spy If any shall pretend to doubt,
Our neighbour's faults with sharpen'd eye, The tale which follows makes it out.
And make his lightest failings known, There was a little stubborn dame
Without attending to our own. Whom do authority could tame,
The prude, in daily use to vex Restive by lovg indulgence grown,
With groundless censure half the sex, No will she minded but her own :
Of rigid virtue, honour nice, At triftes oft she'd scold and fret,
And much a foe to every vice, Then in a corner take a seat,
Tells lies without remorse and shame, And sourly moping all the day,
Yet never thinks herself to blame. Disdain alike to work or play.
A scriv'ner, though afraid to kill, Papa all softer arts bad try'd,
Yet scruples not to forge a will;
Abhors the soldier's bloody feats,
While he as freely damns all cheats,
The reason's plain, 'tis not his way 'Tis strange to think how female wit,
To lie, to cozen and betray. So oft shou'd make a lucky hit,
But tell me if to take by force, When man with all his bigh pretence
Is not as bad at least, or worse. To deeper judgment, sounder sense,
The pinip who owns it as his trade Will ert, and measures false pursue
To poach for letchers, and be paid, 'Tis very strange I own, but true.
Thinks himself honest in his station, Mama observ'd the rising lass,
But rails at rogues that sell the nation: By stealth retiring to the glass,
Nor would he stoop in any case, To practise little airs unseen,
And stain his honour for a place. In the true genius of thirteen :
To mark this errour of mankind On this a deep design she laid
The tale which follows is design'd.
A fight of rooks one harvest morn
Had stopt upon a field of corn,
Just when a kite, as authors say,
Was passing on the wing that way:
His honest heart was fill’d with pain, A looking-glass was straight suspended,
To see the farmer lose his grain, That it might show her how deform'd
So lighting gently on a shock
He thus the føragers bespoke.
Believe me, sirs, you're much to blame, To bend her bumour to her duty.
,Tis strange that neither fear nor sbame
Can keep you from rour usual way
While vice, though seemingly approv'd, Of stealth, and pilf'ring ev'ry day.
Is coldly flatter'd, never lov'd. No sooner has th' industrious swain
Palernon once a story told, His field turu'd up and sow'd the grain,
Which by conjecture must be old : But ye come flocking on the wing,
I have a kind of half conviction Prepard to snatch itere it spring:
That at the best 'tis but a fiction ; And after all his toil and care
But taken right and understood, Leave every furrow spoil'd and bare:
The moral certainly is good. If aught escapes your greedy bills,
A shepherd swain was wont to sing Which nurs'd by suminer grows and fills,
The infant beauties of the spring, 'Tis still your prey: and though ye know The bloom of suinmer, winter hoar, No rook did ever till or sow,
The autumn rich in various store; Ye boldly reap, without regard
And prais'd in numbers strong and clear To justice, industry's reward,
The Ruler of the changeful year. And use it freely as your own,
To human themes he'd next descend, Though men and cattle shou'd get nonie.
The shepherd's harmless life cominend, I never did in any case
And prove him happier than the great Descend to practises so base;
With all their pageantry and state: Though stung with hunger's sharpest pain, Who oft for pleasure and for wealth, I still have scorn'd to touch a grain,
Exchange their innocence and health ; Even when I had it in my pow'r,
The Muses listen’d to his lays To do 't with safety every hour :
And crown'd him as he sung with bays For, trust me, nought that can be gain'd Euterpe, goddess of the lyre, Is worth a character unstain'd."
A harp bestow'd with golden wire : Thus with a face austerely grave
And oft wou'd teach him how to sing, Harangu'd the hypocrite and knave ;
Or touch with art the trembling stringt And answering from amidst the flock
His fame o'er all the mountains flew, A rook with indignation spoke.
And to his cot the shepherds drew; “What has been said is strictly true,
They heard his music with delight, Yet comes not decently from you;
Whole summer days from morn to night: For sure it indicates a mind
Nor did they ever think him long, From selfish passions inore than blind,
Such was the magic of his song: To niiss your greater crimes, and quote
Some rural present each prepar'd, Our lighter failings thus by rote.
His skill to honour and reward; I must confess we wrong the swain,
A flute, a sheep-hook, or a lamb Too oft by pilf'ring of his grain :
Or kidling follow'd by its dam : But is our guilt like yours, I pray,
For bards it seems in earlier days, Who rob and murder every day?
Got something more than empty praise. No harmless bird can mount theskies
All this continu'd for a while, But you attack him as he flies ;
But soon our songster chang'd his style, And when at eve he lights to rest,
Infected with the common itch, You stoop and snatch him from his nest.
His gains to double and grow rich : The husbandman who seems to share
Or fondly seeking new applause, So large a portion of your care,
Or this or t'other was the cause; Say, is he ever off his guard,
One thing is certain, that his rhymes While you are hov'ring o'er the yard?
Grew more obsequious to the times, He knows too well your usual tricks,
Tess stiff and formal, alter'd quite Your ancient spite to tender chicks,
To what a courtier calls polite, And that you, like a felon, watch
Whoe'er grew rich, by right or wrong, For something to surprise and snatch."
Became the hero of a song: At this rebuke so just, the kite
No nymph or shepherdess could wedi Surpris'd, abash'd, and silenc'd quite,
But he must sing the nuptial bed, And prov'd a villain to his face,
And still was ready to recite
T'he secret transports of the night,
No more the shepherds sought his seat, THE MUSE AND THE SHEPHERD.
But in their place, a horned crowd
Of satyrs Aock'd from every wood, Let every bard who seeks applause
Drawn by the magic of his lay, Be true to virtue and her cause,
To dance, to frolic, sport and play. Nor ever try to raise bis fame
The goddess of the lyre disdain'd By praising that which merits olame,
To see her sacred gift profan'd, The vain attempt he needs must rue,
And gliding swiftly to the place, For disappointment will ensue.
With indignation in her face, Virtue with her superior charms
The trembling shepherd thus address'd, Exalts the poet's soul and warms,
In awful majesty confess'd. His taste refines, his genius fires,
“ 'Thou wretched fool, that harp resign Like Phoebus and the Ninc inspires ;
For know it is no longer thine;
It was not given you to inspire
In spite of all the stars that bum, A herd like this with loose desire,
Primeval darkness wou'd return: Nor to assist that venal praise
They're less and dimmer, one may see, Which vice may purchase, if it pays:
Besides much farther off than we; Such offices my lyre disgrace;
And therefore thro' a long descent Here take this bag-pipe in its place.
Their light is scatter'd quite and spent: Tis fitter far, believe it true,
While ours, corapacter and at hand, Both for these miscreants and you.”
Keeps night and darkness at a stand, The swain dismay'd, without a word,
Diffus'd around in many a ray, Submitted, and the harp restor'd.
Whose brightness emulates the day."
This pass'd and more without dispute,
But soon the east began to glow
With light appearing from below,
And level from the ocean's streams
The Moon emerging shot her beauns.
To gild the mountains and the woods,
And shake and glitter on the floods.
The glowworm, when he found his light A man was taught to shut his eyes,
Grow pale and faint and vanish quite
Before the Moon's prevailing ray,
Began his envy to display,
"That globe," quoth be, "which seems so fair, The wisdom of th’ Eternal Mind,
Which brightens all the Earth and air,
And sends its beams so far abroad,
Is nought, believe me, but a clor;
A thing which, if the San were gone,
Has no more light in't than a stone, By narrow principles and few,
Subsisting merely by supplies
From Phæbus in the nether skies:
My light indeed, I must confess,
On some occasions will be less; Which still escap'd them, and the elves
But spite itself will hardly say
I'm debtor for a single ray;
'Tis all my own, and on the score
Of merit, mounts to ten times more
Than any planet can demand
For light dispens'd at second hand.”
To hear the paltry insect boast,
The grasshopper all patience lost. Make Socrates himself discourse
Quoth he, My friend, it may be so, Like Clarke and Leibnitz, oft-times worse;
The Moon with borrow'd light may glow; 'Bout quirks and subtilties contending,
That your faint glimm'ring is your own,
I think, is question'd yet by none :
But sure the office to collect Faise knowledge still in place of true,
The solar brightness and reflect, Build airy systems of their own,
To catch those rays that would be spent This moment rais'd, the next pull'd down ;
Quite useless in the firmament, While few attempt to catch those rays
And turn them downwards on the shado
Which absence of the Sun has made,
Amounts to more in point of merit
Than all your tribe did e'er inherit:
Oft by that planet's friendly ray
The midnight trav'ler finds his way;
Safe by the favour of her beams,
Midst precipices, lakes and streams;
While you inislead him, and your light, From nature and her lawsexplain'd.
Seen like a cottage-lamp by night, One er’ning when the Sun was set,
With hopes to find a safe retreat, A grasshopper and glowworm met
Allares and tempts him to his fate: l'pon a bilock in a dale,
Astbis is so, I needs must call As Mab the fairy tells the tale.
The merit of your light but small : Vain and conceited of his spark,
You need not boast on't though your own; Which brightend as the night grew dark,
'Tis light indeed, but worse than none; The sbining reptile swellid with pride
Unlike to what ihe Mion supplies,
Which you call borrow'd, and despise, '".
Quoth he, “ If glowworms never shone, To light the Earth when day is gone,
I traverse all the house and play THE APE, TIE PARROT, AND THE My tricks and gambols ev'ry day! JACKDAW.
Oft with my mistress in a chair
I ride abroad to take the air;
Make visits with her, walk at large,
A maid or footman's constant charge. Dissuasive arguments provoke
Yet this is noth ng, for I find Their urmast rage as soon as spoke :
Myself still hamper'd and confin'd; Encourage them, and for a day
A grov'ling thing : I fain would rise
Above the Earth and mount the skies:
This feat with greatest ease can do.
To that gay creature turn about The common lot of those who flatter:
That's beating on the pane without; But can a scribbler, sir, be shunn'd?
Ten days ago, perhaps but five, What will you do when teas'd and qunnid ? A worm, it scarcely seem'd alive: When watch’d, and caught, and closely press’d, By threads suspended, tough and small, When complimented and caressid,
Midst dusty cobwebs on a wall; When Ravius greets you with a bow,
Now dress'd in all the diff'rent dyes "Sir, please to read a line or two ;"
That vary in the ev’ning skies, If you approve and say they're clever,
He soars at large, and on the wing “ You make me happy, sir, for ever."
Enjoys with freedom all the spring; What can be done the case is plain,
Skims the fresh lakes, and rising sees No methods of escape remain :
Berwath him far the loftiest trees; You're fairly noos'd, and must consent
And when he rests, he makes his bow's To bear, what nothing can prevent,
The cup of some delicious flow'r. A coxcomb's anger; and your fate
Shall creatures so obscurely bred, Will be to suffi s soon or late. r
On mere corruption nursd and fed, An ape that was the sole delight
A glorious privilege obtain, Of an old woman day and night,
Which I can never hope to gain ? Indulg'd at table and in bed,
Shall I, like man's imperial race Attended like a child and fed :
Jn manners, customs, shape and face, Who knew each trick, and twenty more
Expert in all ingenious tricks, Than ever monkey play'd before,
To tumble, dance, and leap o'er sticks; At last grew franție and wou'd try,
Who know to sooth and coax my betters, In spite of nature's laws, to fly.
And match a beau, at least in letters; Oft from the window wou'd he view
Shall I despair, and never try The passing swallows as they flew,
(What meanest insects can) to fly? Observe them fluttering round the walls, Say, mayn't Į without dread or care Or gliding o'er the smooth canals :
At once commit me to the air, He too must fly, and cope with these;
And not fall down and break my bones For this and nothing else wou'd please:
Upon those hard and Minty stones? Oft ibinking from the window's heiglit,
Say, if to stir my limbs before Three stories down to take his flight:
Will make me glide along or soar? He still was something loth to venture,
All things they say are learn'd by trying & As tending strongly to the centre :
No doubt it is the same with flying. And knowing that the least mistake
I wait your judgment with respect, Might cost a limb, perhaps his neck.
And shall proceed as you direct.” The case you'll own was something nice;
Poor Poll, with gen'rous pity movid, He thought it best to ask advice;
The Ape's fond rashness thus repruv'd: And to the parrot straight applying,
For, though instructed by mankind, Allow'd to be a judge of flying,
Her tongue to candour still inclin'd. He thus began : “You'll think me rude,
“ My friend, the privilege to rise Forgive me if I do intrude,
Abore ihe Earth and mount the skies, For you alone my doubts can clear
Is glorious sure, and 'tis my fate In something that concerns me near :
To feel the want on't with regret ; Do you injagine, if I try,
A pris'ner to a cage confin'd, That I shall e'er attain to fly?
Though wing'd and of the flying kind. The project's whimsical, no doubt,
With you the case is not the same, But ere you censure hear me out:
You 're quite terrestrial by your frame,
And shou'd be perfectly content
You have no wings, I pray refect,
To lift you and your course direct; This you must know, whu for an age
Those arms of yonrs will never do, Have been kept pris’ner in a cage,
Not twenty in the place of two; Deny'd the privilege to soar
They ne'er can lift you from the grouód, With boundless freedom as before.
For broad and long, they're thick and round; I have,'tis true, much greater scope
And therefore if you choose the way, Than you my friend, can ever hope ;
To leap the window, as you say,